


His Skin Was Giving In

by lilaclily00



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Character Death, Child Neglect, Danny Gets Real Messed Up, Heavy Angst, Horror, I've never reached this level of angst before, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Character, Neglect, it was important to me to do that one in capitals, my friend told me I should put the archive warning anyways, please let me know if I should add more tags, sort of? it's ambiguous, though it doesn't entirely fit the usual definition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaclily00/pseuds/lilaclily00
Summary: Danny Fenton's ghost side slowly grew, until he was consumed.(Holiday Truce 2019 gift for ihoarditall)
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 147





	His Skin Was Giving In

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Holiday Truce on Tumblr (fandom Secret Santa). My giftee probably isn't expecting the insanity that's about to occur. 
> 
> galaxyghostart (galaxyghosts on AO3) was a HUGE help, so thank her for this not being as bad as it could've been!
> 
> The prompts I used were: “Jack/Maddie being absentee/neglectful parents and Jazz and Danny sibling bonding", and "Danny having more ghost features". I ended up doing more ghost *behavior* rather than *features*, and I had sibling bonding in here originally, but then it morphed into even more angst. I WAS allowed to do angst and horror, so I can say I still stayed within what I was supposed to write, right? ...Right?
> 
> I think the tags aren't 100% accurate, but they're still scary, and that's what I needed in order to comfortably let anybody read this monstrosity. On with the story!

It started out small. The subtlety was a welcome change of pace, considering how nothing in Danny's life was ever subtle. Not his house, his friends' arguments, his parents' overwhelming passion for their work, the fact he'd felt he was alone at home all the time since he started going to preschool despite the fact his mom and dad were really just one staircase below...

The accident.

Really, he was grateful that they didn't pay attention, because he had no idea how he could explain away everything that had happened since he turned the portal on. His teachers already ragged on him so much about his grades and absences, and Jazz piled onto him genuine concern that less supported him and more weighed him down with overwhelming guilt. Still, she was more of a mom than their real mom had ever been.

* * *

It indeed started small. He finally gained control of his invisibility and intangibility, only to realize that he wanted to use the powers when he shouldn't or didn't need to. A piece of him inexplicably itched to. Sometimes he'd already gone invisible, and didn't realize until Sam or Tucker nudged him--or tried to, at least.

He tried to hide his displeasure until he finally got to be alone. Then, he could smile as he let tangibility go.

* * *

Danny was in the living room, staring down his nonsensical algebra homework that he knew was pointless in the end when footsteps thundered up the basement stairs. "Danny! Danny-boy!"

His heart, though slow, still beat out his chest at Dad calling his name. He hadn't done anything suspicious around him, did he? He hadn't even--even been in the lab for weeks--

"Ah, you  _ are _ home," Dad said once he peeked in, pulling his goggles up to his forehead. "Jazzy said she'd be gone all day. Can you please watch the door to make sure she makes it back?"

"Um, okay," he replied, trying to not sound confused. Did he really go out of his way to ask that? Why did they even care?

"Great!" Dad grinned, looking innocent enough until he pulled a massive contraption out from behind his back that resembled a chrome machine gun a little too much for Danny's comfort. "Your mom and I are going out tonight to test our new weapons on ectoplasmic scum! That Inviso-Bill won't know what hit him!"

Danny couldn't find words to respond with, eyes locked on the gun. His mouth only went drier as Dad rambled on, “Once this baby’s locked onto that fiend, he’ll have no escape!” He playfully aimed at the TV. “If ghosts could feel pain--hoo, boy, these bullets would feel  _ killer _ !”

He had run into his parents during fights plenty, but he didn't know how to handle going out there tonight with the full knowledge that they were targeting him.

Because he had to go anyways, no matter what. He just... he had to.

"We know the two of you can take care of yourselves," Dad ended with, apparently oblivious to his son's growing horror. "But those ghosts have been acting up more, and you don’t have the training to deal with them. Plus, we want to make sure our weapons work right since they do weird things around you kids. Ectoplasmic exposure, maybe? Hm. Anyway, stay inside today, okay, son? Bye!" And with that, he turned back around and clammered downstairs, shouting down something about the GAV.

He was still there, silent as a statue when both his parents returned to the main floor, arms juggling multiple scary-looking weapons, a block of fudge hanging out his dad's mouth. They headed straight out the door without even glancing over at him. It wasn’t until his phone buzzed that he finally moved again. He took a breath--wait, he literally hadn't breathed until now--and checked the message.

_ Tucker: we're still good to go patrol later right _

He was suddenly struck by the intense need to... to  _ protect  _ his friends, but he didn't even know from what. This knowledge that Mom and Dad would seek him out tonight, fully intending to destroy him? From getting caught up in the inevitable fights? From getting hurt? From associating with his ghost form at all?

He’d already had this internal battle when they first started battling ghosts, but it didn't leave him quite as sick to his stomach as it did now. He never wanted his friends in danger, but he needed them to make sure he didn't die all the way because this town needed him. But his friends could get hurt. But so could anyone else if they weren't there.

_ Danny: Yeah. Bring all the weapons you’ve got _

It made his core roil, but compromises had to be made.

* * *

It was small. He felt relief anytime he had the chance to float off the ground. Sam and Tucker stopped commenting on this habit a long time ago.

Then, he didn't go out for night flights just because he enjoyed it, but because he  _ had _ to. His house and his school and his neighborhood made him claustrophobic. 

He felt restricted by the chains of everyday life.

* * *

Sam slumped onto the lunch table bench, the metal protesting as she pulled her lunch out of her backpack. She always kept a blank facial expression at this time of day, when she had to look over and find out whether Danny actually had anything to eat. Sometimes, he did, or had brought some money; most of the time, he didn’t. Of course, his forgetful parents were to blame, but it was just as frustrating that oftentimes  _ he  _ was the one that forgot food was a necessity.

Danny was laying his head on his arms on the table. No lunch.

Wordlessly, she rifled through her lunch bag to pull out a pristine red apple and leave it by his elbow on a napkin. He typically refused anything more than that.

“No thanks, Sam,” he muttered, hunching himself tiredly.

Well,  _ that  _ was new. “‘No thanks’? You need to eat, and you know I’m not going to let you starve.”

He shook his head, face hidden and voice muffled. She almost didn’t hear him over all the clatter and chatter at the other tables. “Not hungry.”

She wasn’t sure if she was glad or not that Tucker was still caught up in the lunch line. He would be absolutely appalled to hear Danny say he wasn’t hungry. Both those boys had bottomless stomachs!

She pushed the apple back to him. “I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

Danny finally lifted up his head enough to give her a deadpan stare. He looked like he hadn’t slept for three days. “No, you can’t. I’m the one with super-hearing. No rumblies here.”

“Eat it anyway,” she insisted. “It’ll help you feel better.”

He huffed, closing his eyes. “Tell that to the scar on my side.”

She blinked. Scar...? Oh. She sighed at him, and pushed her lunch bag just far enough to rest her own arms on the metal table and leaned forward. “I know you’re still feeling guilty about that fight with Skulker,” she began, and she could already hear him whining at her to stop talking, “but if you’re punishing yourself for it like this, you’re only going to keep feeling worse. That’s not okay, Danny!”

He scrunched his face, exasperated. “I  _ know  _ it isn’t, okay?” Her mouth gaped. He was  _ agreeing  _ with her? “It isn’t on purpose, just--” He scrubbed at his hair with his hand, quiet distress on his face. She couldn’t believe he’d managed to hide it for this long. She couldn’t believe she’d failed to see it for this long. “It’s been haunting me, and I just can’t... function.”   
  
“Function?”

“Yeah.”

Sam tried to catch his eyes, but he’d dropped his face back into his crossed arms. She admitted, “I don’t think I get what you mean.” She could understand thinking about it too much for his own good, but...

Tucker was returning, tray in hand, but he slowed before reaching the table. Danny’s back was to him, but even he could tell that something was going on. 

Danny reached his arms up to cover his head, whispering, “That girl got hurt in that fight and it’s my fault. Literally my one job--my  _ one job,  _ Sam--is to not let anyone get hurt in these fights except for me and I  _ failed _ . I can’t do  _ anything  _ until that’s fixed, but I’m being forced to go home and go to school and pretend that everything's alright when it isn’t! I  _ can’t  _ focus in class, I  _ can’t  _ eat, I  _ can’t _ sleep, I  _ can’t  _ drop everything and go destroy Skulker, and I can’t reverse time so it never happened in the first place, so what am I supposed to do? She got  _ hurt _ , and I failed, and I don’t know what to do.”

A heavy silence fell around the trio, a bubble undisturbed by the chaos that was the rest of the cafeteria. Sam didn’t think Tucker heard much, but the look on her face must’ve filled him in well enough.

“Danny,” she said as Tucker quietly stepped closer, an uncharacteristic frown on his face, “what you promised was that you’d try your best to protect Amity Park, but you’re still human. Nobody’s perfect.” Tucker nodded along as he sat down, but Danny didn’t seem to notice he was even there. She hesitated, then carefully touched Danny’s arm. He flinched, so she pulled her hand back. “And that’s not all you’re good for. You’re Fenton  _ and  _ Phantom, and we need both. You need to take care of both.”

He peeked up at her through his arms with the emptiest look in his eyes, and her heart ached. He didn’t believe a single word.

* * *

It wasn’t as small. Danny was strangely protective. Well, "strange" to the human eye, because it seemed perfectly reasonable to him to hold Tucker behind him and bare his teeth at the jocks when they had reached for his friend to throw him in a locker. He didn't understand why Tucker was unsettled, or why Sam was irritated. Why wasn't she happy that he was standing up against them for someone, and not even using his powers to? Wasn’t he just doing his job?

Why were the other students staring at him like that?

* * *

_ Sam: Danny, go to bed _

_ Danny: No I have stuff to do _

_ Sam: I know you’re not doing homework and there’s no ghosts around _

_ Sam: Go to bed _

  
  


_ Sam: If you’re trying to make me not worry by not responding, that’s the opposite of what’s happening right now _

* * *

Mom and Dad weren't idiots. They weren’t forgetful. He knew the portal stayed wide open so often because they liked destroying everything that came through it.

They only captured and studied ghosts occasionally in order to perfect their weaponry.

Danny saved them whenever he could, but when his parents were so vigilant and left their lab so little, he often didn't get an opening. He couldn't stop them from hurting or even killing innocent ghosts.

Those ghosts' ectoplasm were on his hands, too, and he couldn't stand it.

* * *

Tucker wasn't sure what woke him up, but once awareness came, goosebumps ran down his spine. He felt a supernatural stare. He took a few seconds, frozen, trying to get himself to breathe again. Then, he quickly reached out and flicked on his lamp. He sat up, eyes drawn to the source--of course. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Danny?" It couldn't be anyone else floating at his window, a boy-shaped shadow with neon green lights for eyes piercing into his soul.

His friend floated straight through the glass, his hands fiddling together. "I was totally not watching you sleep," he blurted, matching green dusting his glowing face.

Tucker gaped, instinctively pulling his blanket up to his armpits, despite wearing a full set of pajamas. "Wha-- Dude! Not cool!"

"I was already awake, okay? And--and I wanted to go fly for a while, and I ended up passing by your house--"

Tucker's stomach pooled with apprehension and... worry. "Why do I have the feeling this isn't the first time you've done this?" 

Danny looked away guiltily, which was all the answer he needed.

Tucker crossed his arms, holding the blanket in place across his chest. "Do you do this to Sam, too?"

"I mean..."

"Danny, please tell me you understand that that's really creepy."

"I do," Danny muttered, almost bitterly. "I just... I can't handle not knowing whether you guys are okay. It drives me crazy."

He'd noticed. Danny had become more and more ever-present in his friends' lives, enough that they struggled to find ways to talk about their concerns for him without him around. It wasn't necessarily that they had an even closer friendship, but that he seemed to develop separation anxiety of some sort. He was the glue that held their little trio together, but glue could also suffocate.

"Look, I get it," he said, though he didn't, not entirely. He had the suspicion this was similar to how the Box Ghost was obsessed with boxes, or Spectra with looking young, or Vlad with having the Fenton family for himself. He didn't think Danny would react well if he said that, though. "I get worried about you, too, 'cause of all the ghosts and struggling with homework and, well, the fact that you can literally disappear on us. But this is different, dude."

Danny scratched at his ethereal white hair, looking at everything in Tucker's bedroom except Tucker himself. "I know, but--but what else am I supposed to do?"

"Uh, beats me."

"Wow, I knew I could always count on you."

"Gimme a break, it's the middle of the night," Tucker muttered, yawning and rubbing at his eyes again. "I guess we could... set some rules?"

His friend's eyes suddenly hardened, and Tucker lost his breath again when the glowing gaze was directed back at him. "Are you gonna say I'm not allowed to anymore?"

"W-well, I really can't say I'm comfortable with the idea of you staring at me when I'm unconscious, so..."

Danny shook his head. "Compromise."

"What?"

"I know it's creepy, and I hate that I do it, but I can't just..." Danny frowned to himself, as if listening to someone unseen arguing back. "No. I want a compromise."

"Dude, no. I can't agree to that."

"I'm trying to be fair!"

Tucker nearly scoffed with disbelief. Danny really didn't understand just how  _ not okay _ this was, did he? " _ I'm _ trying not to endorse stalking behavior in my best friend!"

"It's not stalking, it's  _ protecting! _ "

"From what?"

Danny blinked, as if he'd never thought he needed to know that, then after a pause, said, "From ghosts. I can't let anything happen to you guys."

"We're fine, we always have been. We've made it through the night for 15 years straight," he replied slowly, then broke out in a yawn. "Either way, you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself, man."

Danny turned back to the window, and Tucker immediately felt his body wilt; he hadn't realized how tense he felt when his best friend stared at him like that. "I guess so, but it feels natural. I've always been like that, haven't I?"

In a way, yes. In a lot of other ways, Tucker couldn't equate the ghost boy in front of him with his past self. At all. "You've always been one to sacrifice for others. I really do appreciate the sentiment, that you're sacrificing your sleep for our safety, but... Are you willing to sacrifice your comfort for our peace of mind instead?"

Now that he'd phrased it that way, he could see the gears whirling in Danny's brain. If the ghost boy thought he was still doing a selfless act...

"I... I think I see your point." Danny brought in a shaky breath Tucker was pretty sure he didn't need, more apprehensive than he'd looked in a long time. "I'll try it. I'll leave you two alone when you're asleep. Besides emergencies."

Tucker tried to not frown at the last bit. That was the best he'd get out of his friend, he was sure. "That sounds like a plan. Now get home before your parents realize you're gone."

Finally, the mood was lifted. Danny chuckled a little. "Yeah, I'm sure they'll freak."

"Like all the other times. You'll be so grounded, your feet are gonna have to touch the floor for  _ weeks _ ."

Danny burst out laughing. "Oh  _ no! _ "

Tucker joined in, even though Danny’s parents never noticing him shouldn’t be funny, until he thought he heard something in the house. Evidently, Danny did too, pausing abruptly. "It's your dad," he supplied.

"Okay, you really do need to go home, bye," Tucker said quickly, shooing Danny toward the window. Danny followed his instruction without protest, but Tucker felt his invisible stare still on him as his dad came in to ask about the noise, and then when he laid back down and turned off the lamp. A few minutes after that, it was gone, and he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

_ Sam: Hey, do you know where danny is? _

_ Tucker: no i texted him half an hour ago and he hasnt replied _

_ Sam: Same _

_ Sam: He's been really out of it lately _

_ Tucker: what do you mean _

_ Sam: At school it's like he doesn't realize where he is or something and he's gone to patrol at weird times and stuff _

_ Tucker: that isnt news sam hes been like that for weeks _

_ Sam: I know, i mean it’s gotten worse  _

_ Tucker: im gonna text jazz to check if hes home _

_ Sam: Good idea _

_ Sam: Never mind, just found him _

_ Tucker: oh good _

  
  


_ Tucker: sam is he okay _

  
  


_ Tucker: hello? _

  
  


_ Sam: Sorry about that, it took a while to calm him down _

_ Sam: I was walking with paulina cuz i said i was looking for phantom and he freaked out on her _

_ Sam: Apparently he thinks the a-listers are still like that _

_ Tucker: what _

_ Sam: Yeah _

_ Sam: I think it could've been anyone and he still would've done that, though _

_ Tucker: i really dont like this _

_ Sam: I know _

_ Sam: Danny's gotta learn not everyone's a threat _

_ Tucker: i can try to talk to him but no promises hell listen _

* * *

Jazz had caught him red-handed.

She'd heard something in the basement when she knew Mom and Dad weren't there--they'd already gone to sleep, for once, while she was up in the middle of the night, dressed in her pajamas. Apparently, Danny was too. Seeing as he was in his day clothes, she suspected this was normal for him.

“I wasn’t  _ doing  _ anything!” he protested. She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed, and he corrected petulantly, “Anything you should get mad over, anyway.”

She tapped her foot, motioning to the bazooka beside them. It looked the same from the outside, but she'd seen his hand fiddling around with wires in there. “I highly disagree. Sabotaging our parents is not the way to stop them.”

A mix of emotions flitted across his face, but it finally settled on resignation as he scuffed his sneaker on the floor. She hadn't realized he'd been floating until now. “I can’t stand watching them hurt other ghosts, okay?”

She studied him for a few more seconds, then her face softened with wonder. He was serious.

She unfortunately knew that these very weapons were shot at her own little brother more than all the ghosts combined. He was such a selfless boy, always was, but did he care about himself at all anymore?

"I still think this isn't how to go about stopping them, it'll only delay--"

"There aren't really any better options right now, Jazz," he muttered, fists clenched at his sides. "Not with what I've heard them saying while they're working."

Her chest burned. She hated that he eavesdropped on them, but even more that it was a necessity. He had to hear them say all sorts of terrible things about ghosts and what to do with them if he was to keep going down this horrific path--the path of a hero. It was how he survived.

She stepped forward, and he stepped back, as if knowing what she was thinking. She held in her sigh. "Please just... go to bed. We'll find a better solution together tomorrow, okay? Two heads are better than one."

He frowned, but it looked like he wasn't going to fight her this time. With a little more encouragement, she finally got him to float back to his room, while she had to take the long route with actual stairs. She didn't mind. In fact, it was almost funny how he forgot she couldn't do that too.

Though...

She glanced back at the bazooka. He'd said the "other" ghosts. He implied he was one of them.

* * *

He spent any time his parents were gone in the basement, staring into the swirling green of the portal, aching to go inside. His home was here, not the Ghost Zone, and even his core knew that, but he couldn't deny that every passage through made him the slightest bit more hesitant to return.

* * *

Danny sat alone at the kitchen table, hovering imperceptibly over his chair. He didn't want to eat, but he knew he should. He'd put it off long enough. So, after some wandering around the kitchen, he settled down with cereal and milk, but then his stomach squirmed at the idea before he'd even poured them into a bowl.

He went back in the fridge, digging for something appetizing even though he'd already done it twice that same day with no results. He or Jazz had needed to go for groceries a long time ago. He pushed fudge he wasn't allowed to eat aside, took bottles of dressing out for a better view, but to no avail--

Wait.

In the very back, he found a green-tinted sandwich. But it faintly glowed, and the scent was nearly like his own, meaning it was ecto-contaminated--which also meant it never went bad, despite how long it must've been in there. He pulled it out, saran wrap crinkling in his hand, and he contemplated its existence.

He looked around the room, even though he knew no one would disturb him.

He looked at the sandwich.

He swallowed it whole.

* * *

Jazz was never shy about psychoanalyzing her little brother, but it got so much worse and he couldn't even bring himself to be as mad about it anymore. He couldn't blame a ghost for acting on its obsession--wait, she wasn't a ghost--why was "human" not his default anymore--

"Danny, this is clearly taking a toll on you. It hurts me to see you like this--"

"More ghost than human?" he growled, turning his head to stare at her wall. He wasn't  _ as _ mad, but he still didn't  _ like _ these sessions.

"No, second-guessing everything you do! And not liking yourself! You are going through a period of discovering your own identity, I understand that, but it doesn't necessarily mean..." She shook her head, gazing at him with sad teal eyes. Somehow, it made him feel sick. "It doesn't have to come with this internal turmoil."

"Jazz, who do you think you're talking to?" His eyes glowed, yet he didn't even know. "There's literally two parts of me fighting each other all the time. I am gonna have internal turmoil for the rest of...  _ whatever _ my existence is classified as."

"Let's still call it 'life', okay?" She placed her hand over his. He flinched--she  _ knew _ he didn't like it, but always forgot that at first. "Because it still is, even if it's more complicated."

He was suddenly driven to his feet, to the air, towering over her as she sat on her bed. " _ Complicated? _ My best friends barely recognize me anymore, and I don't recognize them, either. I've just about failed high school and I'm not even done with freshman year. I've seen Mom and Dad pointing ghost weapons at me with the intention of obliterating me over the past year more than I've talked to them in two. I look the same, but anyone with a brain can tell there's something wrong with me. But the scariest part is... I don’t even  _ care _ ."

Jazz's lips tilted into a frown. "Are you sure none of it bothers you?"

He froze, stock-straight, then slowly wilted the slightest bit. "Well, I mean... it all just feels... like it isn't relevant."

She gently pushed him back to sit on the chair again, a challenge in her voice. "Then this doesn't sound like an eternal internal turmoil to me. One side's already won, right? Trivial human pursuits and relationships aren't relevant. You might as well just go live the rest of your days in the Ghost Zone, right?" 

"What? No!"

"Why?"

"'Cause... 'cause I'm still human!"

"How?"

He pulled away from her, leaning into the chair. "I'm..." How could he even answer that question? Ghostliness had seemed to disfigure any human part of him left. "I don't know."

"You do."

"I don't!"

"You  _ do! _ " The notebook in her hand had gone limp a long time ago, but now she set it on the bed to gesture with both hands. "You live on Earth. You eat and sleep. You hang out with Sam and Tucker when you have nothing to gain but companionship. You are here, talking about your feelings with me. You're still human."

He was silent. Then, he slowly began, "I don't think that’s the right answer." Danny stared down at his hands. His eyes could trace the off-colored veins running down the backs. Well, off-color compared to months ago--they were his new normal. "Ghosts are made of emotion, and that's all I can base my decisions on anymore. I'm here because my core screams if I'm gone from town too long. It screams if I'm not around you or Sam or Tucker often enough. I haven't eaten in days, and I barely sleep." He turned them around to stare at the patterns on his palms instead. "It's more of an act at this point, one I'm not good at anymore, but I... I  _ have _ to be human."

Jazz hesitated, eyebrows furrowed. More gentle, this time, she asked, "Why?"

"If I tip Mom and Dad off, they  _ will _ still try to kill me. I really will be dead, and all the other ghosts are going to notice. I don't want to fail my duty, and leave my home open to chaos. It's to protect me and everyone in Amity Park. I don’t have any other choice."

She opened her mouth, probably to refute, but then stopped. She couldn't even say he was wrong.

She reached out to his hand again, but didn't take it, remembering. She dragged her hand back to her lap. "Please remember that we're still here for you, Danny. Just like you're out there every day to protect us from things we can't fight, we will protect you from what you can't fight."

"Jazz, they're your parents, too."

"But they know I'm always right, so they'll believe me if I tell them you're a good ghost." Her small smile wasn't very convincing, but it was enough. Danny's own frown softened the slightest bit. "If you want to stay at least a little human, you're gonna have to trust us and lean on us a little. Humans need other humans."

She couldn’t read his face. All he muttered was, “I’m trying.”

* * *

It wasn’t small, not at all. People looked less familiar to him. Sure, he remembered their names, their appearance, their habits and hobbies, but when it came down to it, he forgot how humans worked. It was like watching a nature documentary, except he was in it and he had only passable knowledge of what was going on and no narrator. He found himself analyzing everyone in the room whenever in class. He could finally stay awake during lecture because he was too wary of the sensation of being the odd one out, the thing that didn't belong, the foreigner that could be eaten alive if discovered, to close his eyes.

* * *

_ Tucker: i cant stand dannys parents _

_ Sam: Did you ever? _

_ Tucker: no but we walked through the living room with danny all beat up and they didnt even bat an eye _

_ Sam: That’s awful _

_ Tucker: dont think danny cares about them anymore either and i dont know if thats good or bad _

_ Sam: We know he still cares about other people so i don’t think we really need to worry about it _

  
  


_ Sam: Tucker? _

  
  


_ Tucker: you said cares as if thats the right word for what he does. its not  _

* * *

Jazz was the one that called Sam and Tucker. Both of them were furious.

They finally found Danny on the road, limping, somehow yards away from the crater that had formed when he crashed. They only knew that that was what happened because it looked like craters that had formed in past fights, not because they were there this time. Because he hadn’t called them. Because he’d fought the ghost alone. They didn’t even know which one it was.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sam shouted as they ran to him, fighting to keep the anger in her voice, and the worry out.

“Leave me alone,” she heard him hiss, only because the world was far too quiet around them.

Tucker was huffing as he stopped in front of Danny. She hadn't seen him run that hard in a long time. “Not until you tell us why Jazz said you almost  _ died  _ today!”

“I could handle it, okay? Here I am,  _ not  _ dead, and I need to go find her!” Danny, even paler than usual and battered beyond belief, still had the energy to give Tucker a glowing glare as he attempted to side-step him.

“No, talk to us. She’s okay, you’re not.” Tucker reached out to stop his friend by the shoulder, but he recoiled away like Tucker was a hot stove.

“ _ Don’t--! _ ” Danny seemed startled by his own voice, and a beat passed before he tried again, an apology behind his eyes. “Please don’t touch me.” He roughly shook his head, which had to hurt, but it seemed to help him focus again. He only took a breath because he was talking. “I don’t know if she’s okay. I have to go check.”

Sam joined Tucker’s side to form a better blockade. “She sounded fine on the phone, trust me. We need you to  _ stop moving _ , because you’re not gonna last much longer.”

“No, I have to! I don’t know what my parents--” He stopped, then cursed his own tongue.

It took a second for the reason to dawn on Sam. Not all his enemies were ghosts. “Wait, you were fighting your  _ parents? _ ” That wasn’t a new thing, but they had never been _ that  _ good at ghost-hunting before.

“Y...yeah,” he confessed. “Jazz interfered, and they weren’t happy.”

A stone dropped into her stomach. The Fentons had always been so deep in their own little world that they never seemed to feel anything towards their children. They’d never been mad. She didn’t think the Fentons would...  _ harm  _ Jazz, but she didn’t know  _ what _ they’d do.

"We aren't happy, either," Tucker said, barely missing a beat. "If we were here, maybe it wouldn't have reached this point. Why did you go at this alone, man? We're a team!"

Danny's eyes glowed harder. "I can't let you guys anywhere near my parents! Not anymore!" Before they could protest, he added, "Jazz came out of nowhere. I would've made her stop if I'd known what she was planning."

Sam growled. She brushed off Tucker nudging her to calm down. "Are you really gonna push away our help, and your sister's help, when that's what  _ saved  _ you today? You'd rather let your hero complex kill you?!"

"It's not just some  _ complex! _ " he shouted, voice strained after whatever happened in that battle. 

"Danny," Tucker began, giving both of them a serious enough look to shut them up. "We'll bring Jazz back here, plus the first aid kit, so you can focus on healing." Sam was surprised by how much the ghost boy relaxed at that. "But I need you to compromise."

Danny gave him a look of displeasure, knowing exactly what that meant. Sam didn't. After all, how were they supposed to  _ compromise _ on anything else? His existence already rode the line between life and death.

Tucker slowly backed away, eyes trained on Danny. "Please try to understand where we're coming from. You're still human to us."

Tucker broke away to run straight for FentonWorks, but Sam hesitated. Danny's eyebrows had scrunched together, and his unnatural eyes stared off into nothing. He didn't move, didn't breathe. He looked the most foreign to her when he was thinking to himself like that. He didn't look human.

She had no words that would help, so she turned and followed Tucker.

* * *

It started small, but it wasn’t anymore. It overwhelmed him--it hurt--his human brain couldn’t think--his human heart didn’t beat--

The cold in his chest ate at his skin, trying to escape, and his skin was giving in.

* * *

_ Sam: I don’t know what to do anymore _

_ Sam: I don't want to give up on him, but i think he's pretty much given up on himself _

* * *

Danny avoided his parents after the most recent (and by far most disastrous) encounter with them. The logical part of his brain reminded him that it would be more suspicious to do so, even though he didn't see them much in the first place. He did it anyway.

But staying human for so long was making him antsy. He knew being in this form while he recovered was more of a safety precaution than anything, because his parents had never shot at him while he was (somewhat) human--well, not on purpose, at least. But his skin itched the longer he wore it. He also knew he’d heal faster without it, and if he was already in ghost form then he’d be ready for a fight if a ghost came by, right? It would be easier to just go  _ protect _ , right?

So, he blatantly ignored Sam and Tucker’s worried stares as he raised his hand to go to the bathroom. He blatantly ignored how his classmates leaned away from him in their chairs as he walked past them. He genuinely didn’t notice the teacher’s reaction at the peek of thick bandages under his shirt.

He immediately directed himself to the janitor’s closet to transform, and let out a sigh of relief as he flew straight up to the roof to relax. 

Only a minute passed by when he heard the whine of a weapon powering up.

“We know you’re there, Phantom!” Mom shouted.

How? Why? His parents didn’t often go hunting so early. They had a ghost shield around the school, one of the only places ever attacked in the afternoon, so that they didn’t have to worry about it. His ghost sense hadn’t kicked in, so it wasn’t because of someone else.

They must’ve spent the whole day looking for him.

“Come down, or we  _ will  _ come up to fight you,” Dad announced. Danny knew he really would, just to cause a panic and make Danny’s job harder. He grunted and floated to the front of the school, his stance defensive.

To his surprise, the pair stepped back a few feet. Then, Dad fiddled with some remote, and--Danny felt a sudden panic--why was the ghost shield shrinking--don’t trap him--don’t trap the humans--he needs to  _ protect-- _

It stopped just as it slid over his parents, leaving them just outside it.

Mom hefted her bazooka into her shoulder, goggles focused on him even as blinds shifted off windows so teachers and students could see what was going on. "We don’t know how you got through the shield in the first place, but we will not let you hide behind teenagers-- _ human shields _ \--any longer."

"You're hiding behind a ghost shield," he growled.

"That's not the same thing, don't pretend it is," Dad replied.

"You're right. You two are being cowards, and I’m not."

He could tell they were glaring behind those goggles, especially Mom. "You dare call us cowards when you are the one bringing in humans to fight for you?"

"Have you really failed to notice that I've been trying to keep humans  _ out  _ of my fights?" Danny's fists shook with rage. "And that you're putting the school in danger by doing this?"

Dad gripped his gun tighter. He was nothing like the man Danny knew at home. "You’re the demon that put it in danger in the first place."

Something about those words struck him harder than even the baddest of ghosts punching him in the face. He didn't know what he just did, but some sort of crater had formed beneath his floating form and humans were screaming behind him. Ghostly energy hung in the air like static. Mom and Dad--they didn't have a right to be called that now, why was he still doing it--were still standing behind the shield, untouched, but they had brought up their weapons defensively.

His hands crackled and glowed with energy. " _ You _ are a danger to ghosts and humans alike. I have been trying to  _ protect _ everyone from you this  _ entire time _ ." The rest of him slowly followed suit--he was glowing green with righteous fury. Rather than feeling weaker from the display of power, he only felt stronger. His remaining wounds stitched themselves back together, his core beat harder, the cold flowing through his body in waves and he could barely contain it--he couldn't, he was shattering--

Protect  _ him her _ classmates school  _ Amity Park _ friends  _ Jazz _ secret  _ Ghost Zone _ teachers Sam Tucker  _ ghosts _ humans  _ stay away from everything I care about _

His parents weren't on the list.

"You  _ monster, _ " Mom hissed, shaking. He didn’t know it was from a healthy dose of fear.

He couldn't take it anymore--he screamed-- "I am not a  _ monster, I am your SON! _ "

Far too late, he realized he slipped up, got too caught up in his emotions. A deep pain racked through his chest. Another thing he failed to  _ protect _ , when would he stop  _ failing _ \--

Though Dad had paused, sweat forming on his forehead as he re-evaluated their opponent, Mom scoffed in his face. "That's not the first time we've heard that. It's obviously not true."

Danny came back to himself just enough to feel the pang of betrayal. He had failed to protect his secret, but so did his sister. "Jazz told you?"

Mom narrowed her eyes behind her goggles. “How do you know that name?”

“Is that why she--” No, he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Not how Jazz was crying last he saw her. He gulped. "Would you still try to kill me if I was Danny Fenton?"

Dad pointed his gun more threateningly. “Why do you know--”

_ “Would you?” _

For an agonizing moment, Danny thought he wouldn’t get a reply. Then, finally, his mom said, “We have a duty to our town, and we cannot let familial relations get in the way of that.”

His core panged--no, it was his heart, this time. It was a yes.

He didn’t even notice the words on his tongue until they had spilled out. “This is  _ exactly  _ what I’m talking about! You don’t  _ care  _ about anybody, you only want to destroy! That’s what you’re accusing me of all the time!”

Mom stepped up to the very edge of the shield. “You  _ do  _ destroy, Inviso-Bill--” Danny had the sneaking suspicion that name was picked on purpose, just to make him angrier-- “because you are  _ evil  _ and inhuman. Amity Park is far better off without you.”

He knew they were hoping to provoke him enough that he’d try to get through the field and fry himself--but he  _ could _ go through the shield.

He transformed for just enough time to walk through, and transformed back, immediately forming a ball of ecto-energy around his hand.

“Danny?!” Dad yelped, far too late. They were startled enough that they didn't manage to dodge his blast. Their determination returned as they stood back up.

“That can’t really be him, sweetie,” Mom muttered, rubbing at her head and bringing her bazooka back into position. “Ghosts deceive.” 

_ “Danny, stop!” _

“Stay in the shield, Tucker,” Danny commanded without even turning around, without even blinking.

“Yes,  _ please _ stay away from this impostor, kids,” Dad spoke, not daring to take his eyes off of Danny.

“These--these tricks you’re pulling change nothing. I stand by what I said,” Mom said over Sam and Tucker’s protests. 

“I know,” Danny replied, his heartache overtaken by the rage in his chest. “Me too.”

The three burst into action, blasting and dodging, like a deadly dance of green and red. He didn’t flinch at the idea of hurting the humans, not this time, though he didn’t gleefully watch them bleed like they did to him.

He wasn't against hurting them, not anymore. They were off the list. He would do what it took to  _ protect _ everything that was.

They swung fists and fired bullets. Danny poured ectoplasmic energy into every punch, enough that it wasn’t very long before he had worn them down, and sent their weapons out of their hands. He downed them with one more blast and stood over their bruised bodies. His gloves and suit were slick with his own ectoplasm.

"Look, I don't care that you think I'm evil. Nothing will change your mind on that. But what you’ve done to other ghosts... You will never think you're doing the wrong thing. You’ve never changed for the better my whole life.” He tightened his fists at his sides, grief on his face. 

“You’re already dead,” Mom corrected, her goggles cracked, showing the fierce fire in her violet eyes. “And you act nothing like our son. Therefore, you can’t be him. Stop pretending.”

Danny let in a breath just to scream his frustration to the sky, and his parents flinched violently. What kind of argument was that? They wouldn’t--they  _ didn’t  _ know for  _ how long?  _ What right did she have to claim she knew  _ anything _ about him?   
  
He looked back down, startled to see his energy had done something again--Mom and Dad hadn’t just flinched, they were actually hit--there was more red--he couldn’t control his emotions--but he needed to  _ protect-- _

“I’m sorry,” he said, though not sure for what. There was a lot he was sorry for.

His parents, even in this position, dared to give him a look when they were too exhausted for words. They didn’t believe him.

Danny’s face twisted with despair, his hands dripping with acidic ectoplasm, dripping to the concrete and burning holes into it. "Mom, Dad!  _ I have no other choice! _ "

He filled his hand with glowing energy one more time--there was nothing else he could do--he swiped at them--he had to stop them--

“Danny--”

Their heads hit the concrete.

They were gone, and his core hummed. He had done his job. The danger was gone, and he had  _ protected _ .

But he felt less sure of that when he turned around and the humans in the shield were staring at him with... horror? Why were they scared of him? He was their guardian, their hero--

“Danny, what did you  _ do?! _ ” Sam screamed, flinching when he floated towards her.

Tucker was at the edge of the shield, eyes wide and leaking tears. “Are they  _ alive? _ ”

“Um,” he said, trying to remember what he was supposed to look for to check that, “I just know they’re not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

Tucker whirled his face to him, anger sharpening his features. “That’s not-- Can’t you see what you just  _ did? _ It’s  _ not okay! _ ”

Danny’s face twisted with offense. “But I did this for you!” He looked around at the remaining crowd, the  _ protected _ humans, but they were all frozen with fear or backing away. “You’re all safe now!”

Sam shook her head, hiccuping as she started crying too, and he couldn’t fathom why. “You're just like them," she whispered, and it suddenly clicked.  _ That  _ was how the humans would see this.

"I think you're--you're misunderstanding, I'm not..." He glanced back at his collapsed parents on the ground. He honestly couldn't remember at the moment what the vital difference was between a live and a dead human, but... he  _ didn't  _ kill them, right?  _ Right?  _ "I don't just  _ slaughter _ mercilessly like--"

Tucker hadn't even said anything, but the look on his face was enough to shut him up.

Danny stumbled back even though he wasn’t touching the ground. The fact that no one crossed the shield, even his closest friends, weighed heavy on him. "I was just-- _I_ _did my job!_ Stop looking at me like that! I didn’t do anything wrong! _Stop it!_ "

He was falling--his core hummed but his heart--it  _ hurt _ \--why was he crying--


End file.
